The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1887-10-01
DRUNKEN cABBiEs or LONDON.
How Lady Journalist Was frightened
Almost to Death-Reckless Driving.

Almost to Death-Reckless Driving.
Now that the season is over, the cabbies
are taken to getting drunk. They have
not much elsa to do, for one thing, and
they make little money that T suppose
they think will SO farther in malt than in
meat. At any rale, two Of them, in DIFF
ferent stages of intoxicarion, have fallen
to my. lot lately, and with the first one
my life had nearly ended in tragedy.
was going to a little dinner in Pail
Mall the other night, and | asked for a
plebeian ssgrowler, as I feared the
draught in hanson. It is a short shil-
ling fare from Langham street to Pail
Mall, and to save the trouble of paying
when I got there, handed my man a
shilling. He said: s.It's eighteen pence
to Pail Mall, and shan't go for no shil-
ling. Please give him a sixpence, 2 I
said, weakly, to my pretty landlady, who
was standing by. Its only shilling, !"
she demonstrated. II know that, but
never naind, let him have his way"
fancied that thereby should earn the
good will of my charioteer; but never was
more mistaken.
He mounted his box and drove off in a
mad but purposeless manner. turning in
Vulnerable corners, and seemingly be-
wildering himself more and more at
every turn. AT last he glared in at me.
s'Wherever d'you say you was goin'?''
I repeated the address had given him at
starting, distinctly and with emphasis.
He went on more recklessly than ever,
nearly overturned an omnibus or two,
barely cleared the cabs he met, turned
round his own numbering vehicle and
drove back on his path, with no motive
whatever, and behaved SO like a mad
man generally, that l was almost fright
ened to death. Then he glared in at the
window again, like fend, and howled:
"Whever did you say you was goin'?"
Again | told him, very distinctly in
deed; and again he whirled on, up and
down, back and forth, round and round,
until, after perilous interval, he shouted
a third time in at the window: "Why
dom you tell me where you're goin'?"
81 have told you three times already
that l am going to Garlant's hotel, Suf-
folk street, Pail Mall, . answered, land
tell you now to stop this cab, for Iwant
to speak to policeman.
This word of terror must have galvan-
lied his drunken senses into life for a
moment, for he lashed his horses savagely,
and tore on through the gathering dusk,
until he brought up in Suffolk street,
half way up the street, at the head Of
which is Garlant' hotel. Then he stopped,
tumbled down somehow, and opened the
cab door, ssDrive to the hotel at the
top, I said, with all the dignity which
madness of terror had left at my disposal.
81 shan't go no farther, said my man,
can if you keep me stannin' ere
you We got to pay for the time.
81 have paid you sixpence more than
your fare already" I said, beginning to
get out, which seemed to me the wisest
thing I could do under the circumstances.
ssYou ain t paid me single penny" he
bapieazlais drunken memory as to that
little financial transaction having entirely
failed him. ! got by him somehow,
hardly know how, and hurried on to the
hotel, pursued by his cries of ''You amt
paid me. l should think you'd be
hashamed ter live. You amt paid me a
single penny"
My other drunken cabman, now
think of it, encountered before the sea-
son was over, at jubilee time, and he
had had too many tips, no doubt, from
pleasure seekers. At least he was good
natured had been to the theatre with
two ladies. They saw me into four
wheeler and went on their own way,
and then came my perilous transit. Why
don't the Salvation Army or the blue
ribbon people ego for'' the cabmen and
convert them, for the benefit of the rest
of us? On this particular evening my
man drove me as surely never woman
was driven in four wheeler before. He
lashed his horse into a frenzy. He
shouted and yelled as he drove, and
everything got out of our way, as if we
were steam engine. We got to Lang
ham street in safety, however, and some
how the man pulled up his horse and got
himself out and opened the door. He
was very amiable in bis cups, and seemed
to wish to leave on my mind a good i'm
preston.
'sSphose you was frightened 'fraid
you was, marm?n 81 should think SO, !"
said. 81 never expected to get here
alive" 81 sphose so, marin, but you see
this 'oss is an old racer, and when e gets
goin' e thinks els racin', and nobody
can't stop i'm. But e don t mean any
arm, not bit. " Louise Chandler
Moulton's London Letter in Boston
Herald.